Movie Night
by reality-be-rent
Summary: Roger loses a bet and has to spend the night with Maurice. Rogice. Twoshot
1. Movie Night

**Disclaimer: I, sadly, am not a deceased bearded man and, therefore, do not own Lord of the Flies or any of the characters associated with it. Man, it hurts every time.**

 **Onwards!**

* * *

 **Movie Night**

Roger continued to stare intensely into the black void before him, the occasional comments like, 'the fuck am I doing this for?" and estimations of if-I-ran-how-far-could-I-get swirling round his head.

This didn't go on for too long though, because within a matter of minutes the black screen of the television was blocked by a head of messy brown hair, and then Roger's eyes found a new target: Maurice's.

His own dark pools of chocolate glared intensely into the bright, honey eyes closely before him. In fact, they were too close for his liking.

He reached out and roughly pushed the taller, slightly younger boy back - although not very far. No, he'd never admit that this boy was slightly stronger _and_ heavier than him - and growled, "Maurice," said boy grinned at the sound of his name passing through Roger's lips, and at the way he caressed every syllable. Beautiful, even in his gruff voice, "look, do we really have to fucking do this? It's stupid."

Maurice sighed, but his grin stayed firmly in place, "Roger, Roger, Roger. _Y_ _ou_ lost the bet. And now you have to spend the entire night here, with me, for movie night." Seeing as Roger was opening his mouth to protest, he added, " _and_ we're going to watch whatever I want."

"How the bloody hell was I supposed to know that you were _actually_ going to jump of of that damn roof!" Roger cried incredulously, rubbing his forehead in frustration, "I mean I knew you were a fucking idiot but I didn't think you'd be suicidal to prove it!"

"I'm not an idiot, I'm a freaking genius." Maurice replied matter-of-factly, "now stay still while I grab the movie and, since you'll only burn it to spite me, make the popcorn too."

Roger didn't reply. Instead he decided to do what every responsible seventeen year old would do in this situation: huff, turn his gaze away from Maurice's, and glare at the floor. Yes, add a few mumbled profanities like,"yeah, you go make that popcorn. I'll stuff that fucking popcorn down your throat, you little shit" and you could safely say that Roger was a very sensible seventeen year old.

With Roger sufficiently occupied, Maurice skipped away to do just what he'd said.

Roger sat as far away from Maurice as was physically possible, which was also kind of funny. His body was exaggeratedly pressed up against the arm of the chair, body and head turned towards the only light in the room (which came from the TV) with his head in his hand, and his face etched with its usual expression: disapproval.

Maurice, however, simply scooted along the sofa until he was close enough to Roger for his liking which, of course, meant pressed up against him.

Roger sighed for perhaps the hundredth time. Maurice was clearly taking advantage of every minute of winning this bet, and wasn't going to let him get away with ignoring him for the entire night.

"You want me to tell you what we're watching?" Maurice asked. Roger took a quick glance at him, knowing that Maurice wouldn't have noticed because of the poor lighting. Roger could see the room perfectly fine though. He was very used to sitting in dark places. They were his favourite.

"No, but I presume you're going to tell me anyway." Came the monotonous reply.

"It's called The Fault in Our Stars. I rented it from the library." Roger groaned, "God, _Maurice,_ I don't want to watch a stupid ass film where a girl falls in love with a guy and everything is just perfect. But, oh _no,_ there's an even hotter guy that has a thing for her and she'll happily string along the perfectly nice guy while simultaneously messing around with the hot one - look, this is gonna be just like the fucking Notebook, isn't it?" Growled Roger, "If I have to sit through shit like that again, I'm going to kill you. Seriousl-"

Maurice shut him up by covering Roger's mouth with his hand, which was really quite brave, considering Roger had these weird sharp canines which, although he'd never tell him, Maurice thought were actually pretty cute. Especially when he smiled. Which was never.

Anyway.

"Roger, silly, TFIOS is nothing like tha-"

"The fuck?" Roger replied, although due to Maurice's hand, it sounded more like something along the lines off "frer fruck".

Maurice choice to ignore this, and said, "it's a very, very good story that both girls _and_ guys have come to appreciate. _And_ there aren't any love triangles so don't you worry that pretty little- _ewwwwwwwwwwww_ " Maurice's face contorted in disgust, "did you seriously just _lick_ my hand?"

The beginnings of a smirk tugged at the corners of Roger's lips, "seriously? Every time somebody does that, their hand gets licked. I'd have thought you'd have seen it coming by now. Saying that, you do have the attention span of Dory." Maurice was too shocked, and slightly impressed, by the fact that Roger had sat through an entire Disney film.

Apparently, there _is_ still some part of him that is human.

Then he remembered that what he'd said was actually an insult.

Before he could come back with a great retort, the sound from the TV made both teens jump. Ah. The play menu. "Just sit back, and enjoy." Maurice said, widening his arms for extra effect (and afterwards not so subtly doing the oh-i-really-need-to-stretch-but-I'm-done-now-oh-look-at-that-my-arm-is-around-your-shoulder-oops-funny-how-that-happens-sometimes-hey-isn't-this-movie-great-you-should-really-just-continue-watching-and-just-pretend-I'm-not-even-here).

Roger was actually too preoccupied with contemplating whether or not he would die if he made a swan dive out the window.

Well, Maurice's college apartment was on the fifth floor. So yeah, no amount of wishful thinking could disguise that he was never going to make that...

Then again... _anything_ would be better than thi-

No. Roger looked at Maurice from the corner of his muddy eyes. Maurice wasn't a bad kid. _Sure,_ he was _highly_ annoying. _And_ he's refused to stop bugging Roger for the past seven years despite the many warnings (he'd even left a dead mouse inside his desk before) and violence - which did result in the breaking of Maurice's arm on one occasion... he really shouldn't have tried to sneak up on Roger, even if it was to hug him... _Especially_ if he was trying to hug him - but he never let Roger feel alone or unwanted, two things he'd dealt with for the majority of his short seventeen years of living. Right now, Maurice's face was free from his usual grin. Instead, he just looked….. Calm….. And relaxed, his eyes trained on the TV as he clicked the play button. Oh, his eyes.

He'd never really thought they were anything special before. They were just brown. Lots of people had brown eyes. Big whoop.

But recently, particularly in the past few days, and definitely at this very moment, he could see that they really were… pretty? Maurice didn't just have plain brown eyes, they were….. How had he described them before? Right, they were honey brown. A really rich shade of honey brown, littered with chocolate brown specks, the same shade of Roger's own eyes. And when he was smiling they just seemed to light up like fireworks, almost weakening Roger's internal defences by wanting to _smile_ right back at him, instead of his usual response to Maurice's happiness. This was to scowl, or glare, or anything to unnerve the younger boy. Anything to get that damn smile off of his face.

Roger's eyes lowered to Maurice's lips now, his gaze hesitating for a split second, before he quickly averted his gaze. He did _not_ need these thoughts right now. He returned his focus to the TV, anything to distract him from the boy sitting so… _enticingly,_ almost _sinfully_ close to him.

Stupid Maurice.

And stupid shitty film.

* * *

"OH MY FUCKING FUCK I-"

" _Calm down,_ it's just a film!"

"YOU COULDN'T HAVE WARNED ME THAT HE WAS GOING TO DIE?"

"But I thought you would enjoy it! You love when people die."

"BLOODY HELL I-"

"Roger."

"I SWEAR IF I WERE A GIRL, I'D-"

" _Roger_? Roger, are you seriously crying?"

"Fuck off."

It was Maurice's turn to sigh - although still grinning, mind you - and went in to hug Roger. Which actually worked really well at first, what with Roger's pale cheeks colouring to a healthy pinkish glow.

Before, you know, Roger's slapped him in the face.

"Ow, Roger!"


	2. The Morning After

**Disclaimer: Well, God damn. I still don't own Lord of the Flies or any characters associated with it. If I did, Bill would've had a lot more lines and sunglasses because that is one cool kid.**

 **This is the second instalment of my Rogice twoshot, which was requested by a good friend of mine who loves this shipping. She's the one that has always helped me with my writing, and she asked me to post this story here so other people could enjoy it too.**

 **So... Enjoy, I guess!**

* * *

Roger was warm. In fact, this was slightly unnerving because, like his personality, he was always freezing cold. Sadly, Roger wasn't blessed with the stereotypical ability all guys in books tend to possess: being walking bloody heaters. Not wanting to move but also too curious to just stay here like this, he opened his eyes.

Nothing strange going on here. He'd obviously fallen asleep on Maurice's settee, but Maurice was nowhere to be seen. He'd probably just sauntered off to bed some time in the night.

Wow, it was _really_ warm.

Heh, that's funny. Roger didn't remember Maurice's sofa having a Bowling For Soup cushion on it.

What.

Roger's eyes shot open with a start, "holy shit." He looked up into Maurice's sleeping face and tried to pull himself as far away as he could from the boy before he woke up.

It was no use; Maurice had a tight grip around his waist, and no amount of tugging would relinquish his hold on the sadistic child. Next, he started trying to pry Maurice's arms away from his body, but all his hope diminished when Maurice's eyes fluttered open.

"Roger?" He mumbled. He looked down at a pink faced Roger, wondering what the cause of it was. It was then that he noticed the compromising situation that they were currently in. He grinned mischievously and moved his head dangerously closer to Roger's.

What was he _doing,_ Roger thought, slightly panicking, he was a boy - they were both boys! Boys aren't supposed to like other boys like this and shit, he could feel Maurice's warm breath caressing his cheek, his nose, his eye lids (which were now tightly shut!) and his _lips,_ too. A multitude of feelings had begun to swarm together down in Roger's tummy like nothing he'd ever felt before, and then that feeling was gone.

He opened his eyes to see that the space between him and Maurice had been increased, and Maurice was laughing.

Oh, he wasn't having that. He growled, and within the space of a few seconds, he tackled Maurice to the ground, capturing his hands together in his iron grip and pinning them on either side of his head. Maurice let out a squawk of protest, but after seeing the hungry look in Roger's eyes he became silent. Even now, he wasn't scared of Roger, just curious. He didn't believe Roger would ever hurt him. Of course, he'd heard the strange rumours about Roger and his... interests, but he'd never really believed it, that or he'd just never _wanted_ to believe any of it.

Roger continued to glare down intensely, capturing Maurice's eyes with his. _Wow, if eyes are the windows to the soul,_ thought Maurice, _then Roger's soul must be very dark indeed._ Before he could even begin to contemplate what this could possibly indicate, he was interrupted.

"trying to tease me, Maurice?" Roger murmured lowly. His eyes then flashed and his tone became more animal sounding, "let's see how you feel when it's the other way around." Roger suddenly tightened his grip around Maurice's bony wrists, long fingernails digging into the tender flesh. Maurice winced, a sharp high pitched squeak, which was abruptly cut short when Roger pressed his lips violently against the boy's below him. He began to roughly massage Maurice's lips with his own.

Maurice didn't respond for the first few seconds, but quickly tried to assert some form of dominance once he'd snapped back to his senses; he didn't want Roger thinking he was a baby. He managed to push himself up - after all, he _was_ taller and heavier than the dark haired offender - and wrapped both arms around his neck, and began tugging at the strands of hair that curled at the nape of his neck. Roger responded by gripping Maurice's brown locks in his calloused hands. He pushed on Maurice's head, forcing him closer and deepening the kiss.

They had to _stop_. They had to _breathe_. So they did, and the thick wave of awkwardness that came over them left even Maurice without words - the bubbly loud mouth who always had something to say.

"Well... guess this means you _do_ like me after all, right Roger?" Never mind.

"Oh, fuck off."

* * *

 **Forgive me T_T this was awful**

 **Thank you to everybody who reviewed and double thank you for all your kind words!**

 **reality-be-rent**


End file.
